


Welcome Home, Poe

by Viva_Raine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Awesome Leia Organa, Babies, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Dameron Family, Death, Family, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, He finally gets a hug, He really needs a hug, Kid Poe Dameron, Men Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Poor Kes Dameron, Poor Poe Dameron, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Resistance, She really saves them here, Space Mom Leia Organa, Why is that its own tag, You can tell from the tags that this was quite the happy update can't you, angst coming soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viva_Raine/pseuds/Viva_Raine
Summary: “Welcome home, Poe.”They sounded like the best words he’d ever heard. And considering the charm, the charisma, and the ridiculously good looks, there had to have been a nice stack of love-inspired statements as runner-up’s. Compared to many other things he’d been told, that line was simple, ordinary, boring. There weren’t many people in his life who knew it meant the galaxy to Poe.Or, the several times Poe Dameron has been welcomed home, whether in joy or in tears.





	1. Chapter 1

Shara Bey was exhausted. Of course, she was overjoyed, excited, terrified, and a hundred other things, but the exhaustion was the most prominent at the moment. 

Kes spared her a sidelong glance as he kept one eye on the traffic. “You okay, sweetheart?” They were currently exiting hyperspace in their new, three-seater starship, slowly inching their way from the medcenter, their one-month old baby tucked between them in his safety-seat. If Kes claimed he had no qualms about parenthood, it would be a ridiculous lie, which probably explained why he was currently flying about 3 megalights per hour and avoiding any kind of traffic jams. Shara was having a hard time convincing her husband that their baby wasn’t made of glass. 

“Just a little tired.” He raised an eyebrow at her, with a kind of quirky smile. She chuckled. “A lot tired.” 

In all seriousness, however, she was just as terrified as Kes. They had waited too long, tried too hard, lost too much, loved him too much to let anything happen to their baby now. For years, Shara had been told she wouldn’t be able to have children, she’d known that, she’d accepted that, but she’d never fully given up hope. And Poe… Poe was their baby, their first, their only. Poe was their miracle. 

He’d been kept in the medcenter for nearly a month and a half, while his mostly-asleep parents practically clung to his crib. (It had begun as an act of protection and love. Its final purpose was more to keep them standing than anything else.) They had already decided not to tell their son that had been born in some backwater emergency clinic that couldn’t care less whether their child even had a name or not. Despite the health-based risk, there was paperwork involved in the hospital aspect of childbirth, and after diligently exhausting every method available to ensure the safety of their unborn child, Shara and Kes were not about to go through fingerprinting, DNA tests and retinal scans only to have the Empire recognize them as the rebels on their mounting “most wanted” list, and have their son stolen from their arms the first time they saw his face. They didn’t want that kind of future for their son. 

But bad memories aside, forgetting the exhaustion, and frustration, and pure terror, the Dameron family was on their way back to Yavin IV, and two brand new parents had never been happier. The blended green of the planet slowly began to focus into trees, and plants, and lakes and rivers, coming closer until they could make out their house, and the workshop, and the swinging bench under the tree on which Kes had proposed to her (on a slightly different planet, but nevertheless). 

Shara reached over the handle of Poe’s safety-seat to grip her husband’s hand. There were tears in her eyes. “Kes,” she marveled, in a tone just above a whisper. “We have a baby.” 

He didn’t trust himself to answer yet, musing on the fact that those (rather stupid) people who claimed that men didn’t cry had never quite experienced coming home to such a picturesque planet, to such a hard-earned home, with such an unquestionably wonderful wife at their side, and such an indescribably beautiful miracle between them, while when they had left, it had been an empty seat. 

Kes set Poe’s safety seat between he and Shara on the front porch to watch Yavin’s fiery sunset, and for the first time without bursting into tears, their baby opened his ridiculously huge brown eyes and with a tiny gurgle, twisted his lips into what both parents insisted later was the first of his trademark grins. Shara and Kes both leaned down to kiss his forehead simultaneously, bumping heads softly. Shara rubbed her thumb on her baby’s cheek. 

“Welcome home, Poe.” 

* * *

“Mooom! I’m hooome!” 

Shara Bey felt something all too familiar quirk in her chest as her six-year-old son clambered up the steps, tripping on the porch, scraping his knee and scowling it off. He had just returned from a trip to Ben Solo’s house, and it had given her time to think. She knew she had avoided it for far too long, and Shara wasn’t one to put things off. There was just some things she had to face. 

She had noticed that Poe had stopped crawling into she and Kes’s bed in the middle of the night. He didn’t cry when he hurt himself or didn’t get what he wanted or was cranky after a long night, instead settling for a pained scowl and glistening eyes that would be better suited to a boy three times his age. He had grown out of slipping his hand into his mother’s or begging Kes to tickle him or throwing his arms around Ben impulsively when the four-year-old came over to play. He was neglecting his stuffed animals more and more in favor of model starships Kes hadn’t gotten into until he was at least eleven. When he was afraid of lightning, he stormed onto the porch to brave it in person. When he was feeling shy, he made himself brash and conspicuous. He plunged himself into danger to prove he wasn’t scared (when he was), he refused to enjoy things any other six-year-old did, to prove he wasn’t little (when he was), he blinked back the tears to prove he wasn’t sad (when he was). 

In other words, Poe Dameron was growing up. And somehow, something or someone in his young life, had taught him for some reason that he couldn’t grow up the way he was. 

She had to fix that. She had no idea how. She hated admitting it, but she knew it was true. 

So instead she settled for a small smile and open arms as he slammed the door shut and let his bag drop onto the floor, attempting to appear only mildly surprised. “So it’s ‘Mom’ now, huh?” 

He nodded proudly, awkwardly wrapping one arm around his mother. “Yup! Bennie calls Aun’ Leia ‘mom’, so I decided’a call ya ‘mom’, too.” 

_ That boy is a bad influence,  _ Shara caught herself thinking. Bad influence, ha. She just didn’t want her baby boy to grow up. She didn't want to admit that the baby they'd brought home with them six years ago was maturing, slowly but surely becoming more than just their child; becoming his own young man with his own ideas, opinions and dreams. It was a beautiful thing to watch, as a mother, but a heartbreaking thing just the same. She was so proud of the person her son was becoming, and yet so sad to see him grow up. 

"You've gotten so old, baby," she remarked, hoping he couldn't tell how deep the statement really went. With an affectionately rueful shake of her head at the proud look on his face, she shook the tiny hand he had extended to her. 

“Welcome home, Poe.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof sorry I like died guys school just started so yeah :( Don't worry though, I've already written this whole thing so you're good :P 
> 
> Sorry that the timing kind of bounces around a lot (a change I made later in writing it because of length problems and stuff), I hope it's not too confusing eek.

Sixteen-year-old Poe Dameron ran through the door of his home on Yavin IV, slamming it against the wall and unslinging his duffel bag from his shoulder. “Hey, Dad!” he hollered, taking a few seconds to twirl dramatically in slow motion, noting for any changes that might’ve been made in the three weeks he’d been away. 

While the Rebellion had more or less disbanded after the fall of the Empire, each of it’s fighters drifting off one by one to explore the galaxy, follow lifelong dreams, or begin the family every individual deserved to have, Kes Dameron and Leia Organa had always been close. They shared the burdens of watching as their partner braved the skies and hoping against hope that their sons would grow up in peace. Kes was the first rebel soldier to hazard an eating contest with the one and only Han Solo who hadn’t fallen hopelessly behind in the first fifteen seconds (thus obviously forming a questionable yet unshakeable friendship with the man), and Shara and Leia had shared numerous heartfelt discussions about motherhood as they watched their boys grow up together. 

Shara’s death had been a hard blow all around, and with Kes retreating somewhat into his starship work on Yavin IV, Leia’s tasks mounting as it seemed the entire galaxy took advantage of her leadership skills, and Ben beginning Jedi training with his Uncle Luke, the friends slowly drifted farther apart. 

That said, however, when Leia had invited Poe to come spend Ben’s Winter Festival vacation with them in Coruscant, Kes had no choice but to oblige. Ben was Poe’s best friend, Leia was practically his second mother (and as much as it hurt to admit it, Poe needed her), and besides, growing up on Yavin IV (which was, by the way, a ridiculously hot, humid, sticky jungle planet), Poe Dameron loved snow. And who was Kes to deny his son that? 

So, after checking that Poe had actually packed a change of clothes (and the duffel bag was not _ just _ his new starfighter models to show off), and making Leia promise she’d chase away the girls (hey, Kes couldn’t help the fact that Poe had inherited his good looks, but he was putting a lot of effort into… delaying… its effects as long as he could), Kes watched him go, the pride in the son he and Shara had raised threatening to overwhelm him. 

And if the excited (happy, smug, cocky, jumpy, Poe Dameron-style) grin on his face was anything to judge by, it had been fantastic. Kes rubbed mechanical grease off of his hands and onto his grey trousers, favoring his son with one of his most loving smiles. 

“Welcome home, Poe.” 

* * *

“Yeah. Okay. Sure. Uh huh, that’s all good.” 

Great. Now Poe sounded like some old lady on comms with the dentist. Not that he didn’t have the utmost respect for Senator Leia Organa Solo, dubbed “aunt” by his three-year-old self, but she was giving him the ‘this-is-a-big-decision-in-your-life-I-want-you-to-think-about-this-carefully-one-more-time’ speech, and he was already one hundred sixty-five percent positive he wanted to do this. He figured the least he could do was pretend he was listening, but the two-word affirmations were getting really old. 

“Leia. I get it I know, big step in my life, risking danger, need to think about this nice and carefully, blah, blah, blah, blah.” He trailed off, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. He shifted awkwardly as he watched Leia’s reaction from across her desk. This was so weird, discussing plans in her office, going through the empty formalities, pretending Leia hadn’t become something of his second mother. 

“I...mean… with all due respect, Senator, I want this. More than anything, and the speech is kind of putting me… on edge.” 

Leia cringed internally as the boy she’d half-raised called her Senator, forcing a small smile on her face. “Poe, everything puts you on edge. You’re just better at hiding it from certain people.” 

The informal teasing brought a light smile to his face, and he drummed his fingers on the desk in front of him in anticipation. It was time for him to be up in the air where he belonged, giving the First Order everything they deserved. It was time for him to be free from the restricting regulations of the Republic Star Fleet, that didn’t allow him to pursue galactic or personal liberty, but instead preferred for him to fit into their plastisteel box of limitations and ignorance. 

It was time for Poe Dameron to officially join the Resistance. 

“True,” he admitted ruefully - there was hardly a time when he felt fully at peace - except for when he’d made the decision to join the Resistance. There had been no hesitation then. “But I swear, I know what I’m getting into. And I’m ready.” 

Leia quirked an eyebrow at him affectionately, not as an expression of doubt, but as a gesture of maternal pride and good natured teasing. “Poe, you practically cried the last time the temp control broke in the Senate building.” 

He didn’t dignify that with a response, but a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m ready,” he repeated. This was starting to feel a bit more like a psychological drilling than a peaceful interview. Or maybe that was just him being on edge again. “Please.” 

She stood, prompting him to do the same, and she reached up to put her hand on his shoulder, miming the act of knighting him (folklore stories of the days of ancient kingdoms had been her favorite as a child on Alderaan) all the while with a warm smile playing on her face. 

Signatures and oaths could wait for another day; this was a pure moment between mentor and student; aunt and nephew; almost mother and son, to be untainted by formalities and laws. This was not just another recruit for the Resistance, not just another body to defend the New Republic with. This was Poe Dameron, pilot and soldier, following in the footsteps of his idol. This was him making the decision to put his life on the line every day for the sake of others, inspired by the bravery of Leia Organa. This was him choosing to leave one family behind, to join another.

Meeting his gaze, Leia shook his hand firmly, a mock formality laced with affection. “Welcome to the Resistance, Poe Dameron. Welcome home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I'm not dead guys sorry I forgot to update this eek :( 
> 
> Fun fact writing this scene is the only time my own writing as ever made me cry :P 
> 
> Also just noting that the alternating between the use of mom vs. mommy isn't a mistake; kids of even 8/9/10 often switch in moments of strong emotion ;)

No. 

It wasn’t. 

It wasn’t happening. 

This was too confusing. This was too hard. This was too impossible. 

Nine-year-old Poe Dameron huddled in a corner of his mother’s bedroom, confused, heartbroken, and overlooked. There were people everywhere. Too many people. People with clipboards and people with monitors and people with bottles. They were crowding him in the small room, making him feel insignificant and helpless and claustrophobic.

There was no one here he wanted. He wanted his father, to hold him, not these people who were ignoring him. Ben, to play with him, not these people who looked as if they’d never seen a smile. Leia, to tell him everything was going to be alright, not these people who seemed so grim and final it terrified him. He wanted his mother, but she was curled in the middle of her bed, barely breathing, barely awake, barely alive. And that, by far, was the scariest thing of all. 

After all, he was only nine, but he was born into a war, for stars’ sake, his best friend was a Jedi, and his “aunt” and “uncle” were senators and former-smugglers. Death was no foreign concept to Poe. And this looked far too much like it for comfort. 

He finally mustered enough courage to ask the question, although his voice came out squeaky and small. “Excuse me? Guys, what’s happening?” 

They all but freaked out. One woman seemed to be trying not to cry, others jumped and only one of them actually seemed to find some remnant of control. 

“H-hey, bud. I’m Yego. Who are you?” Poe couldn’t believe they hadn’t seen him. After all, he was the tallest in his class, and every single girl he met had a crush on him. If that didn’t get him noticed, he didn’t know what would. He skirted the question anyway, too rushed for small talk. 

“Th-that’s my mom…” he trailed off for a second. “My mommy. What’s...what's wrong with h-her?” The man flashed a helpless glance at the woman behind him, and offered a hand to help Poe up. 

“Where’s your daddy? We need to talk to him.” 

Poe suddenly felt like sucking his thumb, a habit he’d curbed years ago. Instead, he settled for twirling his finger around one of his curls. “Dad’s In a meeting with Aun’ Leia.” He stomped his foot. “You didn't answer my question.  _ What. Is. Wrong. With. My. Mommy.”  _

The man grimaced, lifting Poe to the edge of the bed so he could see Shara’s face. Her cheeks were pale, her lips were blue, and although her eyes were open, they were hollow and dull. Poe gasped, the hidden version of himself overriding the tough-man suit long enough for him to squeeze Yego’s hand, signifying his desperate need for comfort. 

Yego squeezed it back, unsure of how to proceed. He was a doctor, he should know this, he should expect this, stars, he should be  _ used  _ to this, but he was afraid it would never get easier. “Bud,” he began. Poe raised his gaze to look Yego in the eye, seeming terrified, unprepared, and impossibly young. 

“My name is Poe.” 

Oh, _Force_, that made it so much harder. “Poe,” he tried again, his voice considerably huskier. “She’s… she’s really, really sick. I’m afraid… Poe… your mommy… I think she’s going to… to die.” 

Yego squeezed his hand again, expecting him to burst into tears, maybe deny the truth of the statement, maybe attempt to heal his mother himself. He just hadn’t expected Poe to react quite so aggressively. 

Poe slapped him, as hard as he could. “HOW DARE YOU?” he screamed, angry, heartbroken, terrified tears welling up in his dark eyes. He brushed them away, roughly, angry at himself, angry at the stupid doctors, angry at Kes, for leaving him alone in this, angry at his mother for everything she was doing to him right now. She was hurting him. She was tearing him apart. She was killing Poe too. 

“HOW DARE YOU SAY MY MOMMY IS DYING? SHE’S THE STRONGEST, BESTEST, AMAZINGEST MOM IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, BETTER THAN YOU AND YOU AND ALL OF YOU AND EVERYBODY. NONE OF YOU KNOW HER AND I DO AND I KNOW SHE WOULDN’T DIE AND LEAVE ME AND DADDY ALONE. SHE LOVES US WAY TOO MUCH FOR THAT!” 

He scrambled to his mother’s side, tripping on the sheets and muttering words at them he hadn’t known he’d heard before. He shook her shoulders, roughly, but lovingly. Desperately. “MOMMY! WAKE UP! MOMMY I NEED YOU! YOU CAN’T DIE YOU’RE TOO STRONG TO DIE! PLEASE MOM! WAKE UP NOW! YOU’RE NOT DYING! I WON’T LET YOU!” 

He paused to gasp in a hitching breath, and froze as his Shara’s blue lips began to move. Yego was trying to say something, but Poe shrugged his hand away. “Shut up,” he growled at him. 

Shara smiled weakly, grabbing his hand, grateful that for once he didn’t resist. “Poe, you know we don’t say that in our family.” 

That elicited a smile. Then tears. 

Shara continued. “Poe, my baby, you’re growing up so fast. But no matter...no matter where you go in life, no matter how far you adventure, I need you to remember this. Don’t be afraid to be yourself, Poe. So many people will...will tell you to be someone different, something different, to be loved. Don’t listen, Poe. You’re already so brave...so strong. You are everything I ever wanted in a son.” She fumbled weakly with the ring around her finger, the A-wing bolt Kes had stolen from the Rebellion the night he proposed to her. She slipped it into his small fingers. 

“Let it remind you, Poe. Tell Daddy...tell him that I love him...more than the galaxy. And, Poe,” she paused to take a breath, a playful smile lurking beneath her pale face as she recited the baby game she’d played with her son his whole life for the last time. “Do you know how much I love you?” 

Through his tears, Poe offered a tiny grin. Hesitantly, he spread his arms out. “Th-th-this mu-uch?” 

Shara shook her head. “No Poe. I love you so much more than that.” 

She smiled at him. Squeezed his hand. Took one last breath. 

And the monitors went still. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't really find any concrete details on Shara's death, so I kind of made up my own headcanon here, drawing from canon as much as possible. 
> 
> Let me know what you think :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I'm still alive. ...Surprise? *nervous cringe* 
> 
> Also just a warning I wrote this like last year and I don't actually remember half of the logic I had behind this so if something doesn't make sense I literally don't remember how to explain it :P Please nobody attack me on the fact that I don't actually know whether Leia is older than Kes or not. Just go with the flow guys :P

Kes’s comlink beeped loudly in the middle of his planning meeting with Leia, Mon Mothma, Ackbar and several other leaders of the New Republic. Acutely aware of the annoyed glances being shot his way, he reached his hand down blindly, attempting to muffle the sound as he returned his attention to their discussion.  Seconds later, the ‘link sounded again, frustratingly persistent. “Oh, for all the sand on Tatooine,” he muttered, looking imploringly at Leia. “Excuse me,” he murmured. Kes didn’t consider himself a self-conscious kind of guy, but this was Princess Leia Organa herself, thank you very much, and whoever dared to interrupt his meeting with her was about to experience the receiving end of the ire of a lifetime. 

He stepped out of the room, feeling the stares of every soldier, leader and senator in the room on his back. 

He flicked it on. “What do you want?” he growled, rather proud that those were the only words that came out his lips. There was no answering frustration, no defense, no excuses. The voice on the other end was grim, subdued and sounded duly apprehensive of his reaction. 

“Dameron? Kes Dameron?” Said man didn’t bother to confirm, wondering where this idiot had gotten his contact line from anyways. It was only when the second name crackled through from the other end that his anger stilled. “It’s about your wife.” 

No. 

“_..._ What happened to Shara?" _Was she sick? Was she hurt? Did something happen to Poe? Had she been fired? Had she been captured? Beaten? Found out by Imperial sympathizers? Had she been arrested? Does she need me to pick her up? Sign the paperwork? Come home to take care of her? _

Nothing had prepared him for the man’s next words. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dameron. She’s gone.” 

Kes blinked. Once. Twice. Breathed, barely. “What do you mean,  _ gone _ ?” 

There was a pause. An audible deep breath, even over the distance. “She passed away a few minutes ago. She experienced a sudden relapse of her illness, and we couldn't save her. If you could please return to your home as early as possible, I believe your son needs you.” 

_ Gone. Passed away.  Dead .  _ _Shara. Shara, no. Shara, what have you done._ _Wait… son…? _

“Where is Poe?” Kes thought he might be crying, might be screaming, might have forgotten how to breathe. 

“He is here, we’ve got him until you return.” 

_ They’ve got him? They’ve  _ got  _him?! How dare they think they have “got” my son when he’d just lost his mother?_ _Stupid, impersonal, ridiculous, insensitive, half-witted… _ _ idiots…  to think they knew anything.  _

The stupid, tinny voice on the other end of the comm reached his ears again. “Sir, not to appear heartless, but your wife’s… body… is still here and if you wish…” 

Kes broke.

* * *

Officially, the meeting was resumed. 

“So…” ventured Mothma awkwardly. “The new trade route should be about-” 

A strangled scream ripped through the atmosphere, sounding disturbingly like Kes. 

Leia slapped the table. “Meeting dismissed.” 

* * *

His heart was pounding. Too fast, way too fast. He felt like he was suffocating. Something was choking him, squeezing him. He was freezing, shaking, shivering, so cold. Someone’s hands were on his shoulders, steadying him. They were holding him up, so he wouldn’t collapse on the floor like he wanted to. Someone’s voice filtered into his mind. He knew her. It was… Leia. He needed her. More than anything. 

“Breathe, Kes, breathe. Listen to me, in and out, Kes.” 

“She-she-she-she’s… dead, Leia. She’s g-gone.” If someone had told him half an hour ago that he would ever sob in his idol’s arms, he would have laughed in their face. Now, there was nothing else he could do. Stupid Shara, for not telling him something was wrong, stupid galaxy, for ever letting anything to touch his wife, stupid Leia for calling a stupid meeting on a stupid planet to hold together a stupid republic instead of telling him to stay at home with his family; maybe that way he would have noticed before… before it was too late. Most of all stupid him, for letting Shara die, for leaving their son alone on Yavin IV, for caring more about the galaxy than his family, who were his galaxy. 

“I-I-I… Poe is at home. He-he needs me, but I-I don’t think I can-can-can drive like this.” 

Leia sighed, running her hand through his hair and holding her protectively against her chest. She hated seeing him so broken. Ever since she had met him as a teenage street rascal on Coruscant, rebelling against the Imperial rule, nearly getting himself killed every other night, he’d held a special space in the more maternal part of her heart, despite the fact that she was only a few years older than him. 

“Don’t worry, Kes. I’m with you. All the way. I’ll take you home, I’ll stay with you, make food for you and Poe.” 

Kes almost gagged at the mention of food, but Poe, he would need it. He was always running, always talking, always hungry. Yes, that sounded good, Leia being there for them, taking care of them, in the terrible absence of the woman who had done just that for them. A dark part of his mind whispered that he was already attempting to replace Shara, and he barely resisted slamming his head against the plastisteel pole beside him at the very thought. But he couldn’t say no, what with her literally holding him up and letting him cry and offering to keep him and his son alive for the next 48 hours. 

“Th-thanks, Leia.” 

Out of nowhere, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, a stern affection in her eyes. “Kes, I’m not trying to replace her at all, or anything she did for you. You got that?” 

Even he had to admit, as comforting as that was, it was a little creepy. The worst part wasn’t that it was almost like she had read his mind, it was that she probably _had_, with all her magic Jedi stuff. 

“I-I-I-” He took a deep breath, attempting to regain some composure. Not that Leia was judging him, or disapproving, or even remotely minded that he was sobbing on her like a six-year-old, but it was hard to communicate when his voice was breaking and stuttering on every other syllable. “I...know, but I can’t… these thoughts… they’re there… and I can’t… but… I know.” 

Without removing her hand from his shoulder, she led him towards the door. “Can I… we… go in… yours?” He sounded tiny, terrified, and every bit like he had just cried for the past ten minutes straight. 

Leia nodded. She understood. She had lost far more people than Kes had, far too early, far too harshly. She understood more than anyone knew. If he wanted to never again see the starship that had carried him to this cursed meeting, she wouldn't blame him. “Of course.” 

She practically lifted him into the ship, ignoring the stares. If there was one thing Leia couldn’t care less about, it was what the press and the Senate thought about her helping a completely heartbroken Kes Dameron into her ship. Say what they want, nothing could stop her now. 

For her, this was way too personal. She had to be who he needed. She had to take care of him. She had to be the nonexistent figure who hadn’t ever been there for her after her own personal tragedies. Kier. Alderaan. Bespin. Jabba. Learning that Vader was her father. Being elected head of the New Republic. Trying to rebuild the pieces of peace, of life, of the galaxy. 

She couldn’t let him suffer like she did. 

* * *

Kes stumbled out of the ship, feeling like the way the heat of Yavin IV evaporated his tears was somehow a betrayal to the sorrow Shara deserved for being gone. Although she didn’t deserve anything- she had left him alone. But he still loved her, more than anything. 

He sighed shakily. He was well aware that he was mess right now. His hair was staticky from rubbing against Leia’s dress and leaning his head against the the seat. His eyes were red and burning and there were obvious tear tracks on his face, despite the fact that it wasn’t wet anymore. His head was pounding, making him feel exhausted and sick. 

Leia, somehow picking up on this, (okay, Kes would have officially banned Jedi stuff from his life right then and there if it wasn’t currently the thing kind of keeping alive), rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. 

“It’s okay, Kes.” 

He turned suddenly. 

“Okay?” He burst out, in a flare of sudden anger that he knew she didn't deserve but couldn't hold back. “ _ Okay?! _ My  _ wife _ just  _ died,  _ and you want to tell me it’s  _ okay?! _ ” 

She nodded placatingly, tightening her grip on his shoulder just the tiniest bit. “I’m sorry, Kes, I’m sorry. It’s not okay. I know, I know better than most people. It’s not okay. But remember that I understand. And I’m right here.” 

He inhaled sharply, trying to control his breathing, his tears, his voice. Poe needed him to be strong, to be okay, to show him how to do this. He let it out, his breaths shaky. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t strong, he was nowhere close to okay, and he had no idea how to do this. 

He felt his heart physically clench at the sight of the swing he’d proposed to her on, the Force-sensitive tree Luke had given them when Poe was born, the wooden wind-chime that was currently playing a hollow, mourning song, the heart he had carved on the door the day they’d brought Poe home. Blast, even the windows reminded him of her, covered in white soapy streaks because Shara was half-blind and claimed she couldn’t see them anyway. 

He didn’t notice the doctors leaving, didn’t notice the paperwork they handed Leia, didn’t notice the sun set, didn’t notice his com beeping, didn’t notice a tiny voice whimper, “Daddy?” 

Except, wait, no. He noticed that one, his son’s voice breaking him out of the stupor he’d been in for the last forty-five minutes. 

“Poe?” His voice cracked; his throat felt dry and it sounded like he was speaking around a mouthful of gravel. Nevertheless, Poe collapsed into his father’s arms, clinging to him like he hadn’t since he was five. “Are you okay, bud?” 

He felt tears soak through his shirt, felt Poe shake his head against his chest. “I don't think so....are you okay?” 

_ Nope. Nowhere close.  _

“I don’t know, Poe. Were… were you… there?” 

It was then Kes realized that Poe was shaking, trembling against him. He felt him nod. “It-it-it… I was so scared. B-but she said to-to-to tell you that sh-she loved you more than the-the-the-the galaxy.” 

Kes lifted Poe into his arms and sat him on his lap on the sofa, several minutes passing as father and son held each other. Kes went to reach for Poe’s hand, surprised to find it clenched tightly. Gently, but firmly, he opened his son’s hand to find Shara’s wedding ring in his palm, and a red mark the same shape indented into Poe’s skin from holding it so hard. 

Poe stared up at him, his eyes so impossibly big, so impossibly brown, so impossibly scared that Kes was sure he might’ve died if this wasn’t killing him already. Poe's voice was hoarse, even when whispering and his free hand was wrapped around his head as if he thought that might dull the pain. His tears had subsided temporarily, but he was still hiccuping every few syllables, making him seem adorably, painfully small. “She ga ve it to, to me. Said it was so I ’d remember.” He snuggled against Kes’s chest. “I think, I think  she knew h ow scared I wa s with-with-with-” His voice broke, and the tears fell again. “Without you.” 

Kes’s heart broke, again, and again, and again. He held Poe as close as he could. 

“Shh, shh, I’m right here. I’m home, Poe. I’m home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I don't really know what that was. Anyways kudos and comments make me smile :)


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